Laugh For Him
by Gandalf3213
Summary: I haven't cried since that night. Please don't cry about Fred. He'd laugh at you. Harry's point of view at the funeral of one Hogwarts' greatest mischief makers.
1. Gred and Forge

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

_I guess mum reckons you can remember your_ _own name, but we're not stupid. We know we're called Gred and Forge._

Harry had been both dreading and, in a horrible, morbid way, looking forward to the day.

He was dressed entirely in black, he fumbled with the buttons while looking in the mirror, lost in thought. He was still at the Burrow, in a room that Ron still shared with him, though Rom was planning on moving out after the funeral.

It was a miracle, Harry mused, that only one of the Weasleys had died in the seven years he'd known them. They were more accident-prone than any family he knew. That did not make it any easier to face them for the first time since that horrible night.

Harry was met at the bottom of the stairs by Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. Both looked like they'd been recently crying. "George is watching the body." Mrs. Weasley said, more to herself than anyone else. "Couldn't pry him away. Charlie is there, too, watching George."

The second twin, the other half, had been under careful watch since Fred's death. Harry assumed that most of the Weasley's thought he might decide to join his brother prematurely. Harry understood this point of view. George and Fred, Fred and George, had always been so closely entwined that they were almost unidentifiable when they were separated.

Ron was already sitting at the table, staring at a loaf of bread but not looking the slightest bit hungry. Hermione was next to him, silent and watchful, staring at Ron. Harry sat next to his friend. No one else spoke.

There were so many people at the funeral. Most of the same who had sowed up for Tonk's and Lupin's a few days before. Lee Jordan stood close to George, who was looking at the casket imploringly, as if half-expecting Fred to emerge, smiling, claiming it was another joke. Just another joke. Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnston and Katie Bell all stood close to each other, Oliver Wood not far off. The rest of the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and Fleur were grouped together near Aberforth Dumbledore, who had left his home for the occasion.

Others were grouped around the small graveyard. Neville, standing next to Luna and his grandmother, Seamus and Dean, once again untied, arms entwined as they leaned against a small stone. Hagrid, leaving Grawp for once. Professor McGonagal, her hair up in its stately bun standing next to tiny Professor Flitwick.

There was no minister, no chairs, and yet it seemed like the most formal thing Harry had ever been to. Each of the Weasley brothers said something, and each word was like a pang in Harry's heart.

Like Percy's recital. He stood next to the casket for a full minute before beginning, "I was next to Fred when he died. He was laughing  at me, actually  when he died. It was so typical of him." He paused before continuing. "He was the first person to welcome me back, which was odd. I thought he and George were going to hex me." He glanced at George.

"We thought about it." George assured him, smiling a little as he pried a laugh out of the crowd.

Bill was next. He slipped out of Fleur's grip and walked up to the front. Harry noticed that his walk was always just on the edge of sinking into a crouch. "A year ago," Bill began, "I got attacked by Fenir Greyback at Hogwarts." He paused slightly and swept his hair back. "Fred and George were fighting next to me. While George was holding off their attacker, Fred carried me up to the hospital wing. I never forgot that. He probably saved my life."

Ginny's was punctuated with pauses in which she was trying not to cry. Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort her. "The first memory I have is Fred and George turning my hair blue." George smiled a little, obviously remembering. "They were six, and had just discovered that they could do magic. Only thing was, they didn't know how to undo it. So Fred covered my head with tomato paste and told me mum wouldn't even know the difference."

Ron's was the shortest. He couldn't seem to get very many words out. When he did, he looked straight at George. "At Hogwarts, the twins always helped me out. Always there when I needed them most, and usually around when I didn't want them to be. And Fred always knew how to make us laugh. Always."

George was last. He sat on top of Fred's coffin, his feet brushing the ground as he swung them back and forth. Harry noticed dark bruises under his eyes and knew that George probably hadn't slept for a week.

"Me and Fred told each other everything. In our plans, we always included each other. We knew we wanted to open a joke shop when we left Hogwarts, so we worked on making people laugh. Which might be why we didn't pass very many classes." He nodded at Professor McGonagal.

"But Fred wasn't stupid. He just didn't care about predicting his own death. For some reason Professor Trewlawney thought he'd die first. We laughed about it. It didn't mean very much to us. We had already decided we'd die together."

George looked around at the crowd and smiled a small smile. "I haven't cried about Fred since that night. Please don't cry about Fred. He'd laugh at you."

A small chuckle flowed through the crowd. George seemed relieved. It was a familiar sound to him. "I miss him. A lot." He suddenly frowned. "And I love him. He was a warm, funny, generous person. But don't cry when you think of Fred. Laugh. That's what he'd want."

The casket was lowered into the ground by Fred, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley, doing it manually just like Harry had with Dobby. They slowly piled the dirt over him until it was smooth. Then everyone stood back as George placed a stone in the center of the smooth spot and started tracing letters into it.

FRED WEASLEY.

APRIL 1, 1987  JUNE 14, 2007

SON, BROTHER, FRIEND, TWIN

AND A DAMN GOOD PRANKSTER

Harry kissed Ginny, who was crying again, before starting to weave his way through the crowd. He had to find George. It was his fault, all his fault, that George was now twinless.

George hadn't moved from the stone. He stood in front of it, a ghost of a smile on his face. He didn't turn around when Harry approached him but said, "Hey Harry, I knew you'd come over here."

Harry stood next to George, suddenly unsure of what to say. Fred and George had been the first Weasley boys to talk to him. They had given him the Marauder's map. They had been thrown off the Quidditch team with him. They'd been distraction when he had needed to talk to Sirius. And now one had died for him.

"Hey, no fainting, now."

George's voice was calm, yet concerned. He seemed to guess what Harry was about to say when he opened his mouth. "I don't blame you Harry and I highly doubt that Fred does. He was always too reckless, he never really thought things through." He rubbed his hand over the stone. The letters were neat and clean, much better than Harry's hap-hazard array on Dobby's grave.

"You know, he admired you, Harry." George's words were quiet. Harry suddenly remembered that George was only twenty. And Fred would stay twenty forever. "He really did. The way you stood up to Umbridge and the ministry."

Harry didn't believe that anyone admired him, let alone Fred, who always seemed so confident and sure about anything.

George wasn't finished yet. "And you always seemed to be able to tell us apart. You and Lee and Ron." He pushed a lock of hair away, as if meaning to tuck it behind his ear, then laughed as he remembered he no longer had it. "I did that a lot a year ago. Fred would make fun of me for it."

Harry could imagine the two of them in their shop, laughing at something like getting an ear blown off. Only they would laugh at that. He suddenly thrust his hand into his pocket. "I meant to give this to you before." He held out the Marauder's map. "It's been dead useful, but it's yours."

George pushed it away. "Nah, it's your Harry. Or at least it's your father's. Since all of them are gone, it goes to either you or Teddy." He looked backwards at the small boy, who was laughing quietly to himself in the arms of his grandmother. "And since I doubt he can read yet…"

Harry tucked the map away, admiring George for his cool head. Even after everything that had happened, he could still joke, still laugh.

And Harry walked away, feeling a smile tugging at his lips as he heard George start humming the familiar tune, Weasley is our King.

**I was upset that there was no funeral in the book, so this is for Fred and George, because they deserve it.**

**Review.**


	2. The Ring

**I don't own Harry.**

_"What do we want to be Prefects for?" Said George, looking revolted, "It's take all the fun out of life."_

Harry had gone into the forest the next morning.

He didn't know why. He didn't want the ring back. He had promised Dumbledore that he wouldn't go looking for it, that it would stay buried, yet he walked into the forest anyway, as if drawn there. He had learned enough over the past few weeks to trust his instincts.

He peered through the trees and saw George sitting on a hollow log. Harry found this strange. Why would George suddenly come back to Hogwarts after a week of avoiding it? Why would he be sitting in this particular spot? Then Harry spotted in the ring in his hand, and none of the other questions really mattered anymore.

George was twisting the ring through his fingers. Harry hadn't told anyone but Ron and Hermione about the Hallows. Would George know, or guess, what this ring was? What it could do? Was he possible remembering an old fairy tale he'd been told when he was younger?

A whisper from George, and suddenly another person was standing in front of him. Tall, lanky, with many freckles and a shock of red hair, was Fred. George looked at his twin warily, though Harry could see his mouth twitch. "Are you real?"

Fred looked down at his arms, his legs, his torso, "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

George got up quickly and hugged his brother. Fred smoothed his hair as George dripped tears onto his sweater. "I'm sorry," Fred kept repeating, his voice thick, "I'm sorry I left you, George."

Managing to wipe away his tears, George faced his brother. "You promised." He said, in a small voice that barely floated over to where Harry was standing. Fred's ears turned red.

"Yeah, well, I didn't plan on it either, but when a building is collapsing above you there's not much you can do." When he caught sight of George's stricken face he reached out and pulled his brother's chin up. "It's okay, though, really. It didn't hurt much. Kind of like being Stupified, only without the pain when you get up."

George still looked unconvinced. Harry saw his grip become tighter around Fred's arm. "You still left me, left everyone. Mum's been crying all week, dad's all quiet, even Eroll seems depressed."

Fred smiled a little. "You haven't cried, Georgie." His hand floated to George's missing ear. "Seems like you got the short end of the stick, eh? You lost an ear...I'm dead..." Fred suddenly straightened up, panicky. "You were going to kill yourself, George."

George looked like a kid caught in the act of stealing a cookie. "Yeah...but Lee talked me out of it."

"Good for him. You aren't going to do it again, are you?"

George looked surprised. "Well, of course not. You're here now. It'll be like before."

Shaking his head, Fred backed away a little bit. "George, I'm...I'm not really alive. I can't exist in the world like this." He demonstrated, reaching down to pick up a stick and being unable to grasp it.

"You're...you're a ghost then? But I can feel you!" George grabbed Fred's wrist, as if making sure it was still there.

Fred contemplated his brother. "I'm not a ghost. I don't want to be a ghost. They have a horrible life. Anyway, after all those battles, the afterlife is getting pretty full."

"Really?" George looked interested, he sat back down on the stump, pulling his twin with him. "Who have you seen?"

"Everyone." Fred said, matter-of-factly. "Dumbledore. He wasn't too happy with me being dead. Lupin is there, and Tonks. Harry's mum and dad, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Snape. There are a lot of kids from Hogwarts. There's even a house-elf."

George bit his lip again. "Do I sound selfish if I say I would much rather have you here with me?"

Fred enveloped him in a hug that lasted several seconds. "No, I'd want the same. I'm proud of you, George, I would not have held up nearly as well."

Smiling, George stepped back, "Are you...are you going to leave now?"

Fred nodded, "I'll be back, though. I'll find a way." He hugged his brother again, starting to fade already. "I'm watching you, George, don't do anything stupid."

He was nearly all gone now, Harry saw the red hair begin to fade away as a voice called, unnaturally loud and full of compassion and regret. "I love you, George."

Harry gave George a few seconds before emerging from the trees. George's face was streaked with tears as he fingered the heavy ring. "George?"

He jumped, nearly falling off the stump again. "Oh, Harry." He looked back down at the ring.

"You should chuck it." Harry advised quietly. He didn't want George to be plagued with the ring. The last owner of it had committed suicide because of what he saw.

George gave Harry an odd look, then returned his gaze to the ring, then back at Harry. "Yeah...yeah, I think I will."

George got up and walked beside Harry out of the forest. "Did you see that?" George asked quietly. Harry contemplated lying, but finally said, "Yeah, I did."

"Good, I thought I was mental." George took one last, longing look at the ring before hurling it far away from him. It splashed into the black lake and sunk quickly. George continued gazing at the spot where it had disappeared. "I can't do this, Harry, it's too hard."

Harry remembered George's upbeat speech at the funeral. "Just laugh, George. Laugh for him."

**I thought that if anyone deserved to find the ring it was George.**

**Review?**


	3. Joke Shops

**I don't own them.**

_"I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I have a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."_

The shop seemed to be the meeting place now. George didn't mind. He liked seeing his family. A familiar red-headed person would drop in at least once a day. Harry usually stopped by with Teddy. Ron was, of course, always there. He had told George that he would help re-open the joke shop at least, though he would have to return to Hogwarts to take his seventh year.

"You'd think they'd have better things to do."

George didn't look up from the boxes he was stacking. The place had nearly fallen apart in the few months since they had abandoned it. "Don't be like that, Fred, they've just been through a war, they deserve a break."

Fred leaned against the side of his portrait that hung just over the counter. "Yeah, well, that's why you guys should all be working. We're going to need a new ministry now."

George snorted, nearly dropping a box of fireworks. "Since when have you cared about the Ministry?"

Fred looked affronted. "Hey, it'll be good to have some order again. Maybe then you won't have to look behind you every time you walk out the door."

"It's just a precaution." Ron interjected, glancing at Fred as he sorted out the Snackboxes into their appropriate bins. "Never know who's behind you, right Harry?"

Harry looked disappointed as he threw off the Invisibility Cloak, revealing both himself and Teddy, who was sleeping in his arms. "How'd you know I was there?"

Ron rolled his eyes at George, who answered for him, "If you don't want people knowing when you're sneaking about, Harry, you shouldn't bring along a baby. They breathe louder than anything." As he spoke he scooped Ted out of Harry's arms. Even in his sleep his hair turned red, and George knew that if he opened his eyes they'd be blue, like his own. Like Fred's.

Harry shook out his arms, he looked tired. He glanced around the shop, which was still in partial disarray. "Perce here today?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in George's direction.

"Nope." Ron said, absentmindedly pouring a box full of self-sprouting flowers all over the floor. They grew immediately and started shouting odd words in his direction.

"Oi!" Fred shouted from his portrait as the flowers screeched loud enough to wake Ted, who started crying at the noise.

Ron drew out his wand. "Sorry. _Die_― no, wait, ―_dyeclious__." _The flowers burst apart with a final wail, spreading petals all over the floor. Ted stopped crying and waved his fists, a huge smile on his face.

"I don't know about him." George said, grinning as he handed Ted over to Harry. His hair changed back to the jet-black it had been, his eyes changing to a sparkling green. "He's going to be a prankster when he grows up, you'll see."

"No thanks to you." Harry said, smiling as the baby gurgled in his arms. "I'm telling you, George, you're the worst influence on this child. If I ever have any more children." He ignored Ron's bark of laughter. "I swear, they will not meet you until they are at least sixteen."

George grinned at Harry, while the portrait behind him howled with laughter. "What about me?" Fred managed, wiping tear off his face.

Harry stuck out his tongue at him, looking much younger than seventeen. "You're already dead, they'll meet you eventually."

"Hey!" Fred yelled in mock-disappointment. George smiled again, though this one was strained. _You're already dead. You're already dead._ It had been so easy for Harry to say that. Would it ever be that easy for him?

George remembered when he'd first seen the portrait. Percy, who had taken a great liking to their store after seeing it for the first time after the battle, had come in carrying a large, supposedly empty picture frame. George didn't mind his brother coming into the shop; he had forgiven him whole-heartedly for everything. He had made sure Fred's body was safe. He couldn't thank Percy enough for that.

"Hey, George, I think you should see this." He turned the frame around. It was an empty black canvass. George stared at it for a second, then looked back at Percy. "What?" Percy asked, then looked at the blank picture. "Oi! Get out here, you!"

And, emerging from the side of the frame, was Fred, beaming, wearing a Weasley sweater emblazoned with the letter **G**. George gave a yelp, looking from the portrait to Percy. "How'd it happen?"

Percy looked proud as he set the frame down, a little too eagerly, making Fred give out a yelp of pain. "Dunno. It used to be a picture of all of us, you know, from a long time ago. It wasn't even a moving picture. Then this morning I looked at it and they had all cleared out, and this sucker had come in." he pointed to Fred, who was now sitting cross-legged at the bottom of the frame, grining up at George.

"Told you, Georgie. I told you I'd find a way to come back."

**I don't know, they're just such a good pair, I couldn't just upset George like that.**

**Review?**


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